


Foolish

by tastewithouttalent



Series: Official [3]
Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Nervousness, No Plot/Plotless, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one points out how Barnaby's voice is shaking, or the fact that he’s working his cufflinks loose without thinking about it. He’s grateful for that, at least." Kotetsu stays relatively calm during the wedding. Barnaby is a different story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foolish

The first thing Barnaby asks upon seeing Antonio is, “Is he okay?”

The other man draws to a halt, eyes the blond -- Barnaby doesn’t care, he  _doesn’t_ , he doesn’t care that his hair is a mess and his tie is lopsided and his boutennaire is off-center. But Antonio looks skeptical, opens his mouth to say something, and when Barnaby snaps, “I don’t  _care_ , how  _is_  he?” he realizes he sounds much more shrill than he intended to.

Antonio closes his mouth on whatever he was going to say and lifts his hands like he’s trying to soothe the blond. This is  _not_  what Barnaby wanted. “He’s fine. Do you want to see him?”

“No!” He has had to say this four times today  _alone_ , why won’t people  _listen_? “The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding, what is  _wrong_  with all of you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Antonio soothes. “But neither of you are the bride, so the traditions don’t exactly apply, right?”

“If anyone is the bride --” Nathan starts before someone claps a hand over his mouth. Barnaby suspects Pao-Lin, or maybe Ivan, but it doesn’t matter, he can pretend to have not heard that since the other didn’t finish his sentence.

“It’s the theory of it,” Barnaby points out. No one points out how his voice is shaking, or the fact that he’s working his cufflinks loose without thinking about it. He’s grateful for that, at least. “We’re not supposed to see each other the day of, that’s the  _rule_.”

“But if you’re climbing the walls --” Karina starts, and Barnaby waves a hand to shut her up before she can even get going.

“No, no, be  _quiet_ , it has to be  _perfect_ , maybe that’s what determines if a marriage will work or not, if you see each other before the wedding.”

On some distant --  _very_  distant -- level Barnaby is aware he’s being irrational. Traditions are just traditions, and he can ignore any that don’t suit him. But Kotetsu’s been married before, Kotetsu should have expectations, and what if Barnaby doesn’t suit those? He can’t live up to the woman who came before him, he can barely live up to his own expectations, and isn’t  _he_  supposed to be the golden boy anyway, shouldn’t  _Kotetsu_  be worrying about making him happy?

“I’m going for a walk,” he declares. It is a testament to how frazzled he must look that everyone lets him go, watches him storm out of the room with his tie still undone, and his flowers still on the verge of falling, and his hair tangled around his face, and doesn’t try to stop him.

The walk doesn’t help. He sweeps up and down three staircases, paces out over the balcony of the space they’re rented out, even walks past the room with the white arch he and Kotetsu agreed on weeks ago. But maybe they  _didn’t_  agree on it, maybe Kotetsu is just going along with all this because Barnaby  _wanted_  it. Barnaby was even the one who brought up the idea of getting married in the first place. Maybe Kotetsu doesn’t even  _want_  this, maybe they should just call it off, maybe that would be a relief to the other man.

“Bunny-chan?”

Barnaby wishes, later, that he had felt a moment of dread at that nickname, in that voice. He wishes that his first concern had been for the tradition they’re about to break, and more importantly that he hadn’t felt a brief surge of intense relief at the sound of Kotetsu’s voice over his shoulder. But wishes don’t change the fact that his knees go briefly watery with relief, that his eyelashes go heavy with overemotional tears before he can even get to the rational reaction.

He dips his head, admits that all the tension in his body has faded with Kotetsu’s presence, but maintains a vestige of pride by not turning around. “You’re not supposed to see me.”

“Isn’t that the bride?” Kotetsu’s footsteps are coming up and Barnaby can’t, absolutely  _cannot_  make himself move away. “Aren’t you the groom?”

“Aren’t  _you_?” Barnaby shoots back as the best attempt at snark he can muster. Then fingers touch his, Kotetsu threads his hands into the blond’s, and he shuts his eyes and does his best to keep the tears of relief from actually falling.

“You’re so tense,” Kotetsu says against the back of his neck. “Are you nervous?”

“Do you want to marry me?”

Barnaby didn’t mean to say that. It spilled up from his throat with the same desperate tone his original almost-proposal took on, anxious and frightened and sounding horribly young, as if he is returning to childhood and looking to an absent parent for comfort.

“Of course I do,” Kotetsu says, so fast and so easily that not even Barnaby’s self-conscious panic can read anything into it but absolute sincerity. “Do you want to marry me?”

Barnaby laughs, even though it comes out a little wet and shaky. “Yes. I do, yes.”

“That’s good.” Kotetsu sounds steady, so steady, it is not fair that someone so idiotic can be so steady. He leans in against Barnaby’s shoulders, the support of his chest pressed in against the blond’s back, and for a minute Barnaby can breathe again, can forget about the immediate future and the immediate past and just have the present. Inhales are Kotetsu, idiotic and steady and smiling and perfect, and exhales are him, skilled and stubborn and golden and ruined, broken so badly he’s never been able to even find the pieces that Kotetsu can mend without even trying.

“Bunny-chan,” Kotetsu says, and Barnaby can’t even be angry for the flood of absurd affection that washes through him. “Let’s go get married.”

Barnaby takes a breath -- inhale, take all that foolish perfection into himself -- and lifts his head. His eyes overflow, tears trickling down over his cheeks, but that’s okay, that’s Kotetsu-silly and Barnaby can really do with more of that in his life, and the tears come with a smile too, sincere for all it’s a little bit manic.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s.”


End file.
